Staring in the Void
by Di-Bee
Summary: : Helen's, and John's, visits to a decaying, void staring ill Nikola, barely aware of his friends' presence anymore. Dark Os, with minor Helen/John hints, and mainly Friendship/Hurt/Comfort.


Title : Staring in the void

Author : DiBee

Summary : Helen's, and John's, visits to a decaying, void staring ill Nikola, barely aware of his friends' presence anymore. Dark Os, with minor Helen/John hints, and mainly Friendship/Hurt/Comfort.

Rating : T

Disclaimer : The characters belong to their rightful owners, no copyright infringement intended.

Spoilers : Past Sleepers, John has returned, set as a Future!Fic without a specific timeline.

Author Note : This fic has a very special meaning to me. I have learned a few days ago that someone in my family suffering from Alzheimer's disease only had a few days left to live, and while I have been fighting not to write anything, especially not a fanfiction of the kind, I knew I had to if I did not want it to overly obsess me in my last days of revising before my exams.

"Hello, Nikola"

She spoke softly, taking her usual seat by the side of his bed. It was a well worn routine, their well worn routine, and she knew the nurses would not disturb them except if they really needed to.

She got no response, nor did she when she put her hand on his wrist. His eyes were staring into the void, blinking once in a while as if to show that there was still something working. The sound of the cardio monitor was not turned on, and she was glad for it. At first, her very first visits, it had been, and she had counted the time lost in heartbeats instead of years, his occasional shivers or unclear changes of facial expressions breaking her heart that much further.

After his stroke, everything had happened so fast... She had first insisted that he stayed at the Sanctuary, his last home as he would call it in his last moments of clear-headedness his pronounced Alzheimer disease had made scarce lately. After a while, she had had to face the truth, they, she, could do nothing more to help, in fact it would probably be worse for him to stay, when they, she again, could find a more proper place, with people there to take care of him, something else to see than four walls and rare faces. In this institution, at least, he could see the outside world, nature, something more, something that did not look like he was another beast in a cell.

He was no beast, far from it. He used to be one of the most brilliant minds the Earth had ever known, but after his devamping, his genius had started to eat everything up. At first, it had been places he would forgot, dates. Simple things he misplaced. Then, it had been faces, and it had truly gone worse. Helen would never, ever forget the day Nikola had called John James, when she had seen John's face fall, almost, almost ready to shed a tear, Nikola completely oblivious to the drama playing before, or rather behind his eyes.

Maybe it had been the Source Blood finally taking its toll, reclaiming its powers back like it had done for James, and Nigel before him, but now she was scared. Scared she would be the last to go, would have to see John decay as she had seen Nikola, or worse even, would have to impose this on him, and all those she deeply cared for. The deep irony that her trying to find a way to shorten her lifespan would result in an overall world's end had never seemed so cruel.

She tangled her fingers with his, eliciting a turn of the head, some light glimmer in his eyes as his lips attempted to form a word, her name maybe?, but no sound came out. She squeezed his hand tighter, letting him know she was here, would be until the end, in his heart if not in his mind or by his side.

She heard the door open and shut quietly and did not have to turn her head to know who was there. John never sat, he usually stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it when one of them felt like the weight of all that survivor's guilt was too much. She had caught him playing with a strand of her hair a couple times, or even absent mindedly brushing past her cheek, and had never stopped him. They hinted at their share grief in the smallest of comforting gestures, and she knew she would have broken down, and shut off from the world had he not been there, down that road with her, figuratively holding her hand at every step. She could not tell which was worse, having barely been able to say goodbye to James, their oldest friend, who had mostly taken with him their deepest of secrets, having had Nigel dying, in another country, his death already half old news when it had reached them, or their seeing Nikola loosing himself in that void he had persistently been wanting to light.

They could stay like that for hours, literally staring at one another, regretting immensely that it would have had to come to that for them to truly come to 'talk', 'express' themselves and spend so many time together. Back in Oxford, it was really strictly work, he was the obnoxious jerk, and them, most of the times, were the overly lovely couple, that hided not that well their physical closeness when their dear friends were around.

James used to be the one bringing them together, getting them back to the task at hand, or diluting in a good wine the sometimes awkward silence their many differences would bring. No wonder, now, Nikola had liked wine so much ever since he had set foot in England. Or maybe it dated back to his younger years, but somehow both Helen and John doubted it. Both of them had even admitted to regretting the regular emptying of one of her wine cellar, although they had not strictly complained about it.

John had apparently noticed how deep in her thoughts she was, or maybe he was as well and the gesture had been one of sheer, hard dying and old, habit, but his knuckles were brushing past the underside of her jaw, and she had unconsciously leaned it. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, knowing he could read in her expression what she could in his. It was time to go.

She gave one last light squeeze to Nikola's wrist, his vague air of recognition long gone, got up and let John open the door for her, her voice barely a whisper as she said "Goodbye, Nikola" upon reaching the threshold. As soon as the door closed behind them, she could not stop the sigh from escaping her lips, and she silently thanked John for being there. She felt his arms against her sides, suddenly finding her back pressed to his chest, closing her eyes, reveling in his strength to keep them both on their feet, literally and figuratively. She turned in his arms on a whim, opening her eyes to find his once again, finding solace in his glance, making sure that he, at least, was not staring in the void. Yet.


End file.
